It’s been a month since we said goodbye to our baby girl; it feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago all at the same time. Looking back, I’d never seen an infant casket before.
The mere size and the reality of its precious contents took my breath away.
During Dylan’s last two weeks, we clung to Daniel 3:16-18. Marching around the hospital, pleading, praying, worshiping: this was our anthem. Our banner. Our hope.
Our God can heal Dylan of all her infirmities, but even if he doesn’t, we will serve no other gods.
We broke the news as we watched dreams be shattered and future plans changed but we kissed Dylan goodbye with the joyful expectation of a reunion.
Although we buried her body, we know that was just the precious package her sweet soul was wrapped up in.
She gets to be with Jesus.
We’ve heard the loss of a child be compared to an amputation; it will heal but we will never be the same.
We move on as completely different people than we were when this journey started.
Before Dylan, a lot of scriptures were only theory to us. How can you consider it pure joy when you face trials? Is He still good?
We didn’t have a reason to ask these hard questions before.
We lost our daughter but we got a whole lot more of God than we ever knew possible. He has held us, sustained us, and has seen every tear. Through Dylan’s life and death, we can truly say the Lord is good in both joy and suffering.
We do not hope in this life. In our children. Or even our marriage.
Our only hope is in the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ Jesus.
We know this now more than ever; a reminder we never asked for but a truth we deeply needed.
Dylan’s life made us look more like Christ; day by day learning to die to ourselves, surrendering control, and experiencing love without conditions. In her death, we continue to be sanctified, producing a tested faith that the Bible says is more precious than gold (1 Peter 1:6-8).
Don’t get me wrong. In a lot of ways our flesh wants to settle for a silver faith or perhaps even bronze because gold gets weighty.
Gold has been tested, refined, and proven. We continue to be tested, refined, and proven.
We are works in progress with a long way to go but the joy and the hopeful assurance we experience is not man-made. Our faith is being made whole; not in spite of Dylan, but because of her.
God has a sovereign purpose for her precious life and loss. It’s a bittersweet reality – one we probably will never understand on this side of Heaven.
Dylan Grace is a gift and so was every sweet second we had with her on this Earth. The root of grief is a love so deep that we were thankful to even have had a glimpse.
The truth is, we have all fallen short and are not owed anything; we are broken people living in a broken world.
God is no stranger to this type of grief. Jesus willingly chose suffering far greater than ours so that we might have life.
We long for Heaven in a new way. We can’t wait to see Dylan again but more than that, we can’t wait to see God in full, who chose the cross so that we might have freedom.
If you don’t know Him, we would love to tell you about Him